Categories
Marias, Javier

While the Women are Sleeping

I’m sitting here desperately trying not to listen to the U.S. Presidential Debate that’s streaming into my earbuds, because the entire thing seems like such hot-twisted-metal train wreckage that the hairs on my neck get singed just listening to it. And I like my neck-hairs.

And I know that the next month is going to be full of the same, so to spare your hairs, neck-and-other-wise, I’ve recorded a nice long one for you, replete with what I see (through admittedly hazy eyes) as thematic portents to what I’m listening to. Consider this my own personal bailout to you.

You’re welcome.

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Categories
Azorin

An Unbeliever

The other day I was lying in the woods, on a hammock on a mountaintop, reading aloud to young people, and wondered, for a second, why there was no professional job market for reading aloud on hammocks to young people, why there isn’t a real market demand for just such a role and why imagined salaries for such work wouldn’t rival those of morally questionable military contractors or knee-breaking thugmasters. And of course, what happened next was obvious: my bliss at the hammock and the mountain and the good book and the eager young people were corrupted, and for a split second I was Don Jenaro, an unbeliever and a nasty harridanny crank. Here’s the quote I came back to when we climbed down the hill:

There had been times in his youth, in the ardor of young manhood, when he had cherished ambitions to be somebody great and important. He had not succeeded in surpassing a decent mediocrity. But in this assured, deep-rooted, indestructible mediocrity he had the satisfaction of thinking about those who struggled, those who had a faith, an ideal, a political, social, or artistic belief for which they strove, for which they suffered privations and anxieties – and which perhaps they never saw realized.

I mean, it’s enough to force even the likes of to shut the valve off and get back to reading affectionately to the children.

On a mostly unrelated note, one of the top authors in Miette’s Preferred Podcasted Authors Network here, Bart Midwood, has a new project in the works that I can’t help but pass along. Do add word of The Francophile to your Myface Twitty Bookmarks Feeds and if you’re in the area we’ll go see it together on opening night.

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Categories
Alfau, Felipe

The Necrophil

While I suspect that some of you might be nursing a yen for happy wishful and firmly resolved pick-me-up for annus novus, be warned that it’s not going to happen with today’s story, with which you should prepared. If, on the other hand, you need a story in preparation for dirtying your hands or drinking too much, consider yourself In Luck.

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Categories
Rodoreda, Mercè

Rain

Yes, I’ve missed you too and thanks for the well wishes, and yes, you’re right: it would have been RAD to podcast from a women’s prison passing the mic around my circle of hardened women criminals and reading while taking turns with the tattoo needle. Maybe next time. But of course I have a few thousand worthy travel stories to share with you, and I can’t stop wondering whether I’d have access to podcasting equipment from inside the walls of a women’s prison, and if not, who might help me smuggle some in. Because believe-you-me, if I ever found myself in such a position, that’s exactly what I’d do. Meanwhile, here’s a sample of the local cuisine:

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